


Just A Shot Away

by orphan_account



Series: Chao's Kink Bingo [16]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ...I was not the first person to use that tag, Beware of triggers, Community: kink_bingo, Huuuh, Interrogation, Just creepy, M/M, SO, Spoilers: Not actually non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-13
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 02:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is captured, and finds himself in Chris Argent's hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Shot Away

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Could be triggering
> 
> Title from 'Take Me Out' by Franz Ferdinand

Before it all began, Stiles reminded himself that he’d chosen this.

It was ironic that Chris Argent had chosen the old Hale home for this. Ironic and creepy. Really, where did he get off? It was the house his sister had burnt down, for fuck’s sake. He should turn tail and run in shame at the very sight of it.

But apparently not. Instead, he had no qualms about tying Stiles up to an uncomfortable folding chair that had been used for who knows what else in the burnt husk of a living room. Or in lounging against the door frame like he owned the place. 

The night sky was overcast, and so the only source of light in the room was the battery powered lantern Argent was carrying. It was balanced on a single finger, swaying lightly, and casting moving shadows over his form. One second Stiles could see his eyes, and the next they were swallowed by the dark. It was frankly disconcerting, and part of his brain gave Argent a little round of applause for the effect, and started to wonder if he could use it himself when he got out of here.

Finally, the man seemed to get tired of watching, and so he took slow, measured steps up to Stiles, before kneeling down so their eyes were at the same level. They were cold and merciless and Stiles couldn’t resist a flinch.

The silence hung between them, heavy with tension and only broken by Stiles’ low panting. He wished he could keep himself calm and collected, but it wasn’t happening. Adrenaline was screaming through his veins, and both flight and fight were unavailable at the moment. The way his hands were tied were well done, and tight enough that he could barely shift them. But what Argent didn’t know was that Stiles had spent years practicing magic and basically worshipping Houdini, and he’d picked up a few escape tricks way back when.

They just needed time and privacy. Neither of which he seemed to have.

Finally, Argent sighed. “You know what I want, son.”

Stiles gave him his cheeriest smile back, ignoring the throb that went through his body when it pulled his split lip. He was unfortunately sensitive at the moment, since all of him was geared up to high, but it didn’t matter right now. What mattered was not folding to the man in front of him. “Dunno what that is, Chris.” 

That earned him a dry, almost amused look, and Stiles just keep smiling. He could smile through Harris’ class, so he could smile through this. Argent - no, Chris, Chris was way less intimidating a name - wasn’t scary enough to knock his best defense away. At least, Stiles hoped so.

Leaning forward, Chris’ expression returned to something cold and dead, and his eyes seemed all too knowing when Stiles shuddered, half from fear and half from the panicked demands of his body. Unable to help himself, he started to tug at the bonds again, little jerks that did nothing but threaten to give him away.

Voice as chilly as his eyes, Chris made a noise that sounded like pity. “You’re not really one of them, you know.” Stiles froze, because he’d expected threats or getting slapped around a bit, and not... whatever this was. “Think of it from their point of view. The weak little human that they have to put up with. Protect. The weakest link breaks the chain, son, and they know it.” He leaned every farther forward, so that Stiles could feel the heat coming off of him. In a fit of courage and temper, he tried to lash out and headbutt the man, but he jerked to a stop a hairs breadth away from him. Chris didn’t even flinch. “A human can’t fully be pack.”

Heart pounding, Stiles bit back the instinctive urge to blurt denials. The truth was, his own mind had gone down these roads before, when it was dark and quiet and no amount of medication could calm him down. But it _wasn’t true_ , and he just had to keep that in mind. “Clearly you need to check your sources. I have it on good authority that they can be. Not everyone who died in that fire was supernatural, you know.”

He’d hoped that would make Chris flinch or back off a little, but he didn’t react at all. “That is true, but you’re forgetting something. Those humans were family. Born into the pack and raised in it. You think you can just waltz in and care yourself a little space? We both know that’s ridiculous. Maybe someone could do it, but let’s be honest, son. Do they even _like_ you?”

Taking a shaky breath, Stiles managed a jerk of a shrug. “I ended up bonding with a gaggle of emotionally stunted puppies. They love me, really. I’m very lovable.”

Yeah, that didn’t sound convincing. And Chris didn’t look convinced at all. “You’re an idiot,” he told Stiles bluntly, sounding so absolutely sure that Stiles felt a little off balance from it. “Not only for thinking they give a damn, but for getting caught up in this in the first place. “And it’s going to cost you.”

With that, Chris hooked his foot in the space between Stiles’ thighs and pushed the chair backward.

Screaming, Stiles braced himself, which really did nothing to help when he crashed down onto the floor. Sudden pain laced up his back from the impact, and it set his body off even further. All the effort he’d managed with his hands was ruined, since now they were pinned painfully behind him, and Stiles bit back a whimper when he tried to move them. Nothing was broken, but all of him was very uncomfortable.

Chris leaned over him, the lantern dangling and casting shadows of Stiles. Unfortunately, it made clear a natural bodily reaction that had gone unnoticed until then. Really, he couldn’t help it. His body was _alive_ right now, and he’d read somewhere that it was perfectly normally. That didn’t make it less unnerving when Chris’ sharp, icy eyes landed on the bulge in his jeans, brows raising. “Oh, well that does explain some things.” He set the lantern down next to Stiles’ head and places his hand on his thigh, making Stiles shudder. “Have a bit of a thing for dangerous situations, do you? I gotta say, son, there are much easier ways to get your kicks.”

Letting out a pained breath, Stiles closed his eyes against the sight of the man. “You offering?” He managed, wishing his voice wasn’t so thready.

“Would it work?”

The hand shifted and palmed over his bulge, and Stiles’ eyes shot open in panic. He wasn’t imagining it, though. Chris Argent did indeed have his hand on Stiles’ danger boner. And then he started to rub with small little circles, his palm strong and firm and going at a good speed.

Horror bubbled up in him just as fast as arousal, and it was like that egged him on, because Stiles came far faster than he should have. It wasn’t much, but it was still achingly obvious, and he tried to swallow back his panicked breathing. That didn’t help.

Snagging the lantern again, Chris stood up, watching him for a long moment. Then he nodded. “I’ll leave you to think on that for a while.”

And then he and the light were gone, and Stiles was left to contemplate exactly what he’d gotten himself into, with only the sounds of the forest at night and his own breathing to comfort him.

***

Two hours later, Stiles stumbled out of the living room, rubbing his raw, aching hands. A soft click next to him drew his attention. Instead of one of the usual lackeys, Chris was sitting there with a vaguely guilty expression. “Two hours and four minutes.” 

“How’s that rank up?” Stiles returned, voice raw, and he swore Chris winced a little. It might have just been those shifting shadows, though.

Putting away the stopwatch, Chris eyed him. “Twenty minutes slower than Allison.” Waiting for Stiles to finish swearing, he took the lantern in hand. “But then, you did have a... disadvantage.” For a second he hesitated, and then he looked away. “That was too much. At least at this stage. this time I got carried away. I apologize.”

Eyeing him, Stiles pressed his lips together. “Is that a thing you normally do?”

“Not me.” The implications of that were clear, and they both avoided looking at each other. 

Finally, Stiles let out a sigh. “Well, nothing hurt but my pride, I guess. And my poor virginity.” Chris stilled, eyes wide. Oh, he hadn’t known. Whoopsie, that probably made it worse for him. Sorry he wasn’t sorry. “Now let’s never talk about this again.”

“Agreed,” Stiles mumbled back, finally dropping his poor sore hands. “Also, I can’t be kidnapped Tuesday night. There’s a Chemistry test on Wednesday.”

Lips twitching up, Chris gave him a final nod and then turned off the lantern, effectively disappearing into the gloom.

Snorting at where he’d been, Stiles slowly shook his head and slipped out the door. “Everyone I know is a goddamn creeper.”


End file.
